


oblivious

by ladydetective



Category: Book of the Ancestor Series - Mark Lawrence
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Idiots in Love, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: Everyone knows how Nona and Ara feel about one another, except for Nona and Ara.
Relationships: Nona Grey/Arabella Jotsis, Sister Apple/Sister Kettle (Book of the Ancestor)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	oblivious

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoy my first nonabella! i had to try and get inside a lot of character's heads for this one, so let me know how i did

_ i) apple _

Apple smiled to herself as she tidied up the mess from today’s lesson, her mind replaying the look on Nona’s face as she unwillingly answered her questions. It was good to know her truth pill worked - it was the product of months of work, and she’d burned through several favours at the Academy to get the necessary enchantments. 

The door opened, and Kettle walked in. She pressed a kiss to Apple’s cheek and looped her arms around her waist. “You’re in a good mood,” she said, “Anything interesting happen in class?”

Apple hummed in acknowledgement, returning Kettle’s kiss with a quick peck of her own. “You could say that - I got to test out my truth pill, and got some interesting information out of it, too.”

“You didn’t experiment on the novices again, did you?” Kettle didn’t always approve of her methods, but Apple thought she protested more out of habit than anything else these days. She knew she wouldn’t do anything to  _ permanently _ harm them - just to teach them a lesson.

“I did, and it worked perfectly. They couldn’t resist telling me anything I asked. I still need to figure out how to neutralise the taste, though, or it’s going to continue to be difficult to slip someone unawares.”

Kettle rolled her eyes fondly. “Find out anything useful, at least?”

Apple’s smile widened. “Plenty - Nona Grey confessed to a crush on me, and young Arabella, and on someone called ‘Regol’.”

“Can't fault her taste there - if you were my teacher, I would have had a crush on you too.”

Apple turned around so she was properly facing her lover and kissed her. It was a soft embrace, one that spoke to the ease they felt around one another. “Mmmmmmm,” she murmured against her lips, “In that case, I would have had to punish you for impure thoughts - you’ve never been very good at hiding how you feel about me.”

Kettle scoffed in mock outrage. “ _ Me _ ? What about  _ you _ ? You’re the one who couldn’t keep her hands to herself at the last Convent table meeting - you distracted me so badly that I got half of the minutes wrong.”

“Semantics,” Apple replied airily, though she was unable to suppress a grin at the memory.

“Also, did you say Nona had a crush on Arabella? Interesting…” A thoughtful look crossed Kettle’s face.

“I assumed that’s who she meant, unless she knows another Ara… besides, the Jotsis girl turned beet red when she heard, it was really quite something.”

Kettle laughed. “I can imagine. Do you think there’s something there? I didn’t think they got along at first - she spends so much time with that awful Clera girl - but I suppose they’ve been hanging around one another more and more lately.”

Apple shrugged. “Possibly. I’ve scolded them both for chatting in class more than once. It’s hard to tell when they’re so young - it would be an interesting match though. A girl from the highest order of the Sis and a girl from the Grey. I can practically hear the scandal forming.”

“The Argatha and her shield, if you believe in Sister Wheel.”

Apple rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t. If I have to listen to _ one more sermon _ -”

Kettle cut off her complaint with a kiss. Apple briefly considered breaking away to continue her argument, but thought better of it, leaning into the embrace.

They needed to stop for air eventually. “So,” Kettle said, playing with a strand of hair that had once again fallen loose of her accursed headdress. Apple vaguely wondered what the rest of the Convent would say if they knew that the reason her hair never managed to stay in place was because, half the time, Kettle took it down to fiddle with. Something disparaging about being a disgrace to the Ancestor, no doubt. She’d tell her to stop, but she enjoyed the sensation far too much. “How long do you think it will take Nona and Ara to get their act together and realise they like one another?”

Apple chuckled. “Years, probably. They’ll repress this incident so hard that I’ll be surprised if they manage it before they graduate Holy Class.”

Kettle quirked an eyebrow. “You think it’ll take that long? They’re going to be spending a lot of time together. They arrived in the Convent on the same day, so they’ll probably be in the same class for most of their time here. And they’re only in Red! There’s plenty of time for them to figure things out before they graduate.”

“Both of them are incredibly stubborn. Neither of them will want to talk about it first. Trust me on this.”

“Speaking from experience, are we?”

Apple shot her a playful glare. She’d repressed her own feelings for Kettle for at least a year before she’d eventually caved.  _ That _ certainly had been a fun mission. Anyway - her attempt to ignore her emotions became something of a running joke between them. “Want to bet on it?” she asked, a note of challenge in her voice. 

“What? Bet on whether or not they’ll get their act together before graduation? I’m game. What will I get when I win?” Kettle’s voice was full of a confidence that Apple found very sexy. For someone that was so good at her job - as well as a number of other things - it wasn’t a look she wore very often. 

“ _ Whoever _ wins,” said Apple, a salacious grin on her face, “can request whatever she wants from the other. Sound fair?” She pressed a long, lingering kiss to Kettle’s mouth so as to further enunciate her point.

Kettle moaned deep in her throat. “Fine,” she said, “If they get together before graduation, I win. If it’s after - you win. If they don’t - ah, who are we kidding, that’s not going to happen. C’mon, let’s get out of here - there’s still a few minutes before we have to be seen at dinner. I have very specific plans for you.”

* * *

_ ii) clera _

Clera Ghomal knew two things. Firstly, she knew that she loved Nona Grey - in whatever form that love took. Secondly - and, perhaps, most importantly - she knew that love was not enough to survive on in this cruel world of theirs. If love was enough, her father would not be in prison under the threat of the hangman’s noose at this very moment. Her so-called friends were not aware of that little nugget of information - they knew he was behind bars, alright, but they hadn’t the faintest idea that his life was in more danger with each passing day. 

_ Well _ , thought Clera dourly,  _ Jula might know _ . She always was too smart for her own good - always sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, always asking questions that didn’t concern her. 

Money was the only thing that might save her father now. It had been the thing to condemn him, too - but it was also his last shot.  _ Money makes the world go round _ , he’d always said. The others made fun of her for repeating the things he said, but he was right. It wasn’t polite to talk about, but Abeth was rotten to its core. The right amount of money given to the right person at the right time could make anything happen - even save a condemned man from the gallows. 

Arabella Jotsis had plenty of money, and she never let Clera forget it. She was too well-bred to talk about it openly, of course, but she showed it in other ways. Expensive shampoos for her  _ perfect _ hair. Sweets made by her plethora of cooks at home. Shoes that cost more than what Clera’s family would be lucky to see in a year. And of course - oh-so-funny stories from her idyllic childhood running round a fucking  _ castle _ . 

Ancestor, Clera  _ hated _ her. It wouldn’t be so bad if everyone else felt the same way - if they all got a good laugh at the princess’s expense - but  _ no _ , all the stupid bitches in her class couldn’t  _ wait _ to fall at her feet. Oh, Arabella, how  _ funny _ you are. How  _ smart _ . How  _ beautiful _ . How  _ perfect _ . It was enough to make her hate the lot of them. The nuns weren’t much better - full of praise for how intelligent she was, how powerful. The  _ Chosen One _ . Clera would do as well in their poxy classes if she’d been brought up with an army of personal tutors to help her - she’d had to  _ earn  _ her grades. Everyone except for loonies like Wheel knew that the prophecy was bullshit, anyway - and even if it wasn’t, Nona was every bit as powerful as the blessed three-blood, probably more so. 

She’d thought Nona had her head screwed on right, at first. She’d come from a background that was even poorer than Clera’s own, so she hadn’t cared that what few things she had were shabby and run-down. And she’d escaped the Gallows herself, so she was hardly in a place to judge her father’s position. 

When Nona joined the Convent, Clera learned what it was like to have a real friend. She’d been friendly with the others, but there had always been some kind of barrier between them. She was the daughter of a man who’d very publicly been sent to prison. She was crude, rude and had a smart mouth. They never got her sense of humour, and it sometimes felt like they hung out with her because of proximity more than anything else. They were in the same class, so they might as well be friends. 

Nona was different - or at least, she had been. She liked Clera for who she was, not for who she sometimes pretended to be. Some of the things she said made her laugh - really, truly laugh. She didn’t seem it at first glance - the peasant look about her made most dismiss it - but she was smart. Maybe not in the way that Sister Rule preferred, but in a way that would stop you getting shanked in a dark alley at night. Street smarts, she thought it was called. 

And _alright_ \- she was pretty, too. Not pretty in the perfect, preening way that the Jotsis bitch was pretty, but pretty in a  _ real _ way. Her hair - when it wasn’t shaved for misbehaving - was thick and dark. Clera found herself desperately wanting to run her hands through it. She wasn’t sure what that meant. 

Now it was all falling apart. Nona had broken the unspoken understanding between the two of them and started hanging out with the princess more and more - which meant that Clera, in turn, was also forced to associate with her. She wasn’t going to let Nona go that easily. 

She’d confronted the other girl about when it first started happening. “Here,” she’d said, “why are you acting all buddy-buddy with the princess all of a sudden? Are you hoping she’ll let you sweep her off her feet, or something?” She laughed at her own joke, but it was forced. 

Nona had looked at her with those big, wide eyes of hers. “She’s my friend, okay? She hasn’t done anything bad to me, and most of the time she’s actually pretty nice. I can have more than one friend.”

Clera scoffed at that. “The Sis don’t have  _ friends _ , Nona. They have allies and enemies and people they use to get what they want. You aren’t powerful enough to offer her a proper alliance, and you’re insistent that the two of you aren’t enemies. That only leaves you one option.”

“She’s my friend,” said Nona, stubbornly. Her eyes narrowed. “Drop it. Don’t make me choose between my friends.”

Clera did drop it - not because she believed in what Nona was telling her, but because she believed that if she pressed further, she would lose her - and that was something she wasn’t prepared to do. But she wasn’t going to let it go entirely - no, she was going to fight for Nona. No Sis bitch was going to take her away from her. They already had so much - they couldn't have her too. 

She turned her sovereign over in her hand, smiling to herself. There might be something between Ara and Nona now, but it wouldn’t last long - not if she could help it. Nona would be hers again - because Clera Ghomal fought dirty, and she always fought to win. 

* * *

_ iii) wheel _

“Because mankind are sinners, we must beg the Ancestor for forgiveness if we are to be welcomed at His side once we have left the mortal world.” Wheel paused for breath and looked around the Spirit Classroom, dismayed. The Novices appeared to be paying even  _ less _ attention than usual. She was used to and even expected a certain amount of resistance - the Ancestor’s truth was not always easy to hear, even for the most enlightened - but  _ really _ , this was getting ridiculous. Some weren’t even  _ pretending _ to hide their lack of interest. 

Arabella Jotsis was staring at Nona Grey, an all-too-familiar lovestruck expression on her face. Wheel narrowed her eyes.  _ This  _ couldn’t be allowed to continue. She’d expect as much from the peasant - the girl hadn’t an ounce of respect in her dirty body for the Ancestor and his Church, so would think nothing of thinking Sinful thoughts while in Spirit Class - but she  _ had _ thought the Jotsis heir would do better. The girl was born with many gifts and privileges - one would assume she’d find a better use for them than lusting after a blasphemous bumpkin. Wheel was  _ from _ the Grey - she’d worked hard to ensure that others couldn’t tell this from a glance - and she  _ knew _ the kind of people it produced.  _ Not _ ones who were suitable partners for near-royalty.

She’d once believed that Arabella was the Chosen One. Thank the Ancestor that was clearly no longer the case - a Chosen One who is infatuated with Nona Grey was unimaginable. Luckily, Zole seemed above such mundane attachments - the girl had few friends at Sweet Mercy, never mind any lovers. Wheel hadn’t been thrilled when the Ice-Triber was brought to them and they were made aware of her role - Arabella had seemed so perfect - but she thought that now, on the whole, it was for the best. Zole certainly took her destiny more seriously - as she did most things. 

Wheel banged her staff on the blackboard, bringing the class back to attention. Arabella looked away from the peasant, only to quickly glance back at the girl when she did something to catch her attention. Nona said something to her in a whisper - Wheel’s ears were not quite good enough to catch what it was - and they both smiled, before turning to face the class. 

She noticed the exchange with something like dread coiling in her stomach. Things could  _ not  _ be allowed to advance between the two of them. Apple and Kettle were bad enough - the good reputation of Sweet Mercy would not survive another relationship in which the people involved could not be discreet about their feelings for one another. Wheel would have to intervene.

* * *

_ v) darla _

People thought, because Darla was big and liked to punch her way out of a problem instead of talking things through, that she was stupid. This wasn’t true. Sure - she wasn’t any good at algebra or a lot of the shit Sister Rule taught, but she could tell what was going on right under her nose, even if the people involved couldn’t. 

What was going on was that Nona and Ara were completely gone on each other, even if the two of them were too thick to realise it. It was obvious to everyone  _ but _ them. When they were all still in Grey together, Nona and Ara would whisper with one another. They’d have whole conversations with their eyes that they wouldn’t let the rest of them in on. They’d find any excuse to touch each other -  _ oh, Nona, help me brush my hair. I couldn’t possibly do it alone. Oh, Ara, massage my shoulders… I hurt them in Blade and no one else makes them feel better like you do _ . The dynamic shifted when Darla and Nona moved up to Mystic while Ara stayed in Grey - Nona would send her longing looks from their separate tables at mealtimes, and Ara was just as bad - but it was no lesser. If anything, they were more blatant. 

Honestly, it was so flaming  _ obvious _ . She’d knock their heads together if she thought it would do any good - but the two morons would probably just rush to comfort each other so quickly that wouldn’t bother to assess how they felt. 

Things were different now that Nona had been banished. Darla missed the runt - no-one at their table came even close to out-eating her. She was always good to spar with too - everyone else was so  _ sensitive _ , complaining about  _ bruises _ or  _ missing teeth _ . Nona took it on the chin and tried harder to beat her. Still, as much as she missed her, it wasn’t anywhere close to how Arabella was feeling. 

Darla had never had much to do with the princess. She generally left her to Nona. They all hung out together, sure, and were on friendly terms - but they weren’t particularly close. That was changing, too. Arabella stalked around the Convent as if she was missing something vital. She was like the Poisoner whenever Kettle was away, only worse because they didn’t know when Nona would come back. She was snappish and short-tempered - they were all on high alert, because she kept trying to jump inquisition agents. Darla was hardly a fan of the inquisition, but killing them would only make the situation worse. Her father always told her to pick her battles, to engage only when victory seemed ensured. She missed him. 

The anger, they could deal with - the despair was worse. When all the bluster and fire went away and all she’s left with is the clawing worry for the person she loves most in the world. 

She was in one such mood when Darla stumbled into her near the sinkhole. She wasn’t sure what to do - if she was in one of her rages, Darla could bring her to Blade Hall and spar with her until she’d worked out some of the frustration. Jula was better at dealing with her when she was like this. Still, though - she had to try. She wasn’t going to leave her friend like this. 

She cleared her throat and Ara jumped, wiping at the tears in her eyes in a frantic attempt to conceal them. “Nona will be alright, you know. She’s tough.”

Ara nodded, but Darla’s words didn’t seem to help much. “I know that, I do. She’s so strong and so brave, but - she’s one person. It’s cold out there, and there’s a lot of people who want to do her harm.”

Darla looked around her, searching for anyone who may be eavesdropping. She didn’t see anything suspicious - for someone so big and hard to miss, Darla was actually okay at Shade. She could see a use for the things they were taught there, so she made sure to listen. “Kettle’s gone after her. They’re thread-bound, so should be able to find each other. Kettle’s been everywhere, seen almost everything. And Zole has escaped, too - my bet is, she’s gone to find Nona. They’ll be alright, with the three of them. Whatever poor fucker tries to jump them will be in for a nasty surprise.”

Ara looked up at her, confusion in her eyes. “Zole? Why would she go after Nona? They hardly know one another.”

“You weren’t in Mystic when me and Nona were,” she’d been given her final stamps not long after Nona was banished, “but Zole sometimes spoke to her. I dunno if I’d call them friends, exactly, but she saw something in Nona that she didn’t see in the rest of us. She lied for her after the whole Joeli thing.”

Darla could see she’d finally gotten through to the other girl. Her posture relaxed somewhat and the tears stopped. There was still an air of general sadness about her, but the only thing that would really fix that was Nona coming back.

“I just… I worry that I’m never going to see her again. That she’s never going to be allowed back here.”

“She’ll be allowed back when Abbess Glass is back.” The two shared a significant look - they had a plan to be of use on that front, but weren’t going to speak about it here. Darla was pretty sure they weren’t being watched, but even so. Some things were too important to risk being overheard. 

“ _ When _ she comes back,” she said, voice firm, “you should tell her how you feel.”

Ara looked at her, and blinked. “W-what? What do you mean?”

Darla rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes. You have feelings for her.”

“Yes - feelings of friendship. We’re friends.” It didn’t sound like she’d even convinced herself of this.

Darla thumped her. Not particularly hard, but hopefully hard enough to knock some sense into her. 

“OW,” moaned Ara, “What was that for???”

“Being stupid,” muttered Darla, before glaring at her. 

Ara rubbed the spot on her cheek, and glared back. It was a battle of wills - one Darla was determined to win. She wasn’t going to put up with her friends being stupid any longer - not when they could be happy, instead. 

“Fine,” Ara relented, her shoulders sagging. “I have feelings for Nona. Romantic feelings. I’ve had them for years. Happy now?”

“Getting there,” she responded, “but what are you going to do about it? Sit around and pine forever?”

“That was the plan, yeah.”

Darla glared at her again. Ara visibly exhaled. “I don’t really see the point in talking about this when Nona’s not even here and we don’t know when she’s coming back.”

“She’s coming back,” said Darla, voice once again firm, “And when she does, you’re going to tell her how you feel. I can’t sit through another five years of watching the two of you pine for each other. Before you start - don’t give me any crap about not feeling the same. She does. I share a dormitory with her. She never shuts up about you. So just do us all a favour and stop being idiots.”

Ara stared at her, open-mouthed. It contradicted all of her goody-two-shoes etiquette lessons, that stare. “You think Nona feels the same way about me?”

Darla groaned.  _ Ancestor _ , they were stupid. If they don’t get their shit together when Nona got back, she decided, She really was going to knock their heads together.

_ v) zole _

As she traversed the edge of the Black Ice, Nona Grey in tow, Sherzal’s soldiers and Noi-Guin in pursuit, Zole had to admit that it tested the limits of even her own considerable ability. She hadn’t properly rested in days - there had been little opportunity for it in between tracking Nona down and infiltrating the Tetragode. That was without even mentioning the avalanche she’d brought down on her enemies. Zole had been lectured extensively on the dangers of pride - it had been one of the first  _ klaulathu  _ that she’d expelled - but sometimes, at moments of incredible tension, she felt whispers of it, nevertheless. When she brought the force of a mountain down upon her enemies, she’d felt proud. It did, however, take its toll - she was exhausted. But she could not rest yet - there was still work to be done. 

Still, though - part of her was relieved to be back on the Ice. Sweet Mercy was better than she’d ever expected it to be - when her tribe first stationed her there, she had of course obeyed but was privately sceptical. Surely, there were places in the Empire that would offer more relevant information about its inhabitants than a cloister full of old nuns. She’d been wrong - Sweet Mercy proved more enlightening than she ever thought it would be. They taught her a great deal. Still, though - they were not her people. They did not know what it was to live on the Ice. Most of them would perish there - they were weak, burdened by attachments that would see them killed. In stripping herself of her  _ klaulathu _ , Zole sought to become above such worldly things. Staying at Sweet Mercy any longer would make that… difficult. Almost beside herself, she was becoming fond of the people there - none more than the girl with her now. 

Given time and adequate preparation, she thought that Nona Grey would do well on the Ice. She was among the best that Sweet Mercy had to offer - the only person aside from Sister Tallow herself who could give Zole any difficulty in a fight. But she was not ready quite yet - her teeth chattered with the cold and her body, inadequately protected, shivered relentlessly. If Zole did not get her back to her Convent soon, she would die. She’d admit it - the prospect of Nona’s death saddened her. She’d had very few friends in her short life, but she counted Nona in that elite number. 

She hadn’t intended it to work out this way - she had planned to see out her time at Sweet Mercy without forming any kind of attachment. Friends were a weakness, she’d always been taught - worrying for their survival on the Ice would only diminish your own chances. But Nona Grey wormed her way under her skin even so. Zole had trekked her way across half the Empire for her - she would not let her die here. 

Finally, they reached the spot she had in mind. The soldiers or Noi-Guin would need to enter one-at-a-time and would be easy to see. If they took turns keeping watch, they could rest here, for a time. Both of them sagged to the floor gratefully, warming themselves around the fire that Zole had constructed. 

The whispers of the  _ klaulathu _ in the shipheart were becoming unbearable. She was more able to withstand them than Nona was - she had already been purified - but it still did not make the experience pleasant. In a bid to divert her mind from the malevolent voices, Zole felt the urge to do something she never normally did - engage in small-talk. 

She turned to her companion. She was biting her lip, a wistful - and deeply familiar - expression on her face. “You are thinking of her, aren’t you?” she asked, “You should tell her how you feel.”

Nona looked up at her, clearly surprised at her attempt at conversation. “What do you mean? Tell who how I feel?”

“The golden one,” said Zole, “the one your hearts yearns for.”

“Wait -  _ Arabella _ ? You think I’m in love with  _ Arabella _ ?”

Zole smiled. She could perhaps see why others enjoyed this. The expression on Nona’s face was certainly comical. “I never said anything about love. That’s a conclusion you jumped to all by yourself.”

“B-but you said I should tell her how I feel!”

“Yes. And I never intimated you were in love with her. I could have been telling you to tell her how much you hate her.”

Nona stared at her, aghast, as if the very notion of hating Arabella Jotsis was something she could not comprehend. She supposed it was ridiculous - anyone with eyes could tell that the exact opposite was true. Zole would not pretend to understand the ins-and-outs of the emotions that Novices occupied themselves with daily, but it was hard for even her to miss how her friend felt about the golden princess. There was a light in her eyes and a certain edge to her voice whenever she spoke about her, and she would not stand for any insult to her. 

On the Ice, attachments were generally discouraged. They were a potentially fatal distraction in the face of ever-present danger. However, they believed in the concept of  _ komlathu _ \- that one person was destined to stand by you in the face of all adversity. Instead of making you weaker, their very presence would make you fight harder. They were the one person who could always keep you warm in the midst of the bitter cold. Zole thought that the closest word to the concept in the Empire-tongue was  _ soulmate _ . She’d be shocked if anyone other than Arabella was Nona’s  _ komlathu _ . 

As she looked at Nona’s confused face, she was reminded of another of her people’s beliefs - it was considered taboo to tell another person who their _ komlathu  _ was, even if it was entirely obvious. They must figure it out on their own. “Just… think on what I’ve said,” she said, finally. “And don’t take too long, for your own sake. I will take first watch.”

With that, Zole’s desire for conversation ceased and she resumed her normal, taciturn demeanor, leaving Nona to stew on the idea she had planted in her head.

* * *

_ vi) kettle _

Kettle was drifting off to sleep nestled against Apple’s side as the other woman read her book by candlelight. They’d had a long day planning a strategy for how best to deal with the Verity poisonings as well as preparing Arabella for her role in it. Nonsensical images played across her mind as her brain settled into the strange limbo between sleeping and waking. 

All of a sudden, thoughts that were not her own penetrated her head. She was no longer in Apple’s bedchamber but near the sinkhole, bathed in the light of the focus moon as she looked through Nona Grey’s eyes. The girl didn’t seem aware of her presence - such accidental intrusions were common when they first became thread-bound to one another and didn’t know how to control it, but they’d become more adept at managing it since then. Now, only instances of great emotional distress would bring them into each other’s mind without their express consent. 

The source of Nona’s upheaval was obvious - Arabella Jotsis was kissing her. Kettle felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect - half the Convent had been waiting  _ years _ for this to happen. Her bet with Apple was still standing - it looked like Kettle’s chances of victory were improving. She’d been having doubts lately - the two managed to dance around one another awkwardly, telling each other everything  _ but _ how they felt. 

The two novices were clearly inexperienced with kissing - there was a lot of fumbling involved - but they were certainly very enthusiastic after a tentative beginning. Kettle could feel the rush of emotions coursing through Nona’s system - confusion to arousal to a deep elation. She’d wanted this for a very long time, even if she had not known it until this moment. 

The kiss lasted a  _ very _ long time. Both Nona and Ara seemed entirely unaware of their surroundings, lost in the feel of one another. It even started to rain, but the two did not break apart. Kettle’s amusement turned into guilt - she should not be intruding on this intimate moment. Nona deserved privacy. She moved to separate her consciousness from Nona’s, but found something blocking her. She couldn’t leave. She could perhaps make her presence known to the other girl - but that would spoil the moment. Kettle internally sighed, resigning herself to staying in her friend’s body until whatever weird force barring her exit was dispelled. 

They pulled apart after what felt like hours and smiled at one another softly. Something in Kettle’s heart melted at the expression. They were so young, but so in love. She could remember feeling that way for Safira once, but their relationship was never as pure or innocent as this one was. She loved Apple -  _ obviously _ \- but they’d been older and more experienced when they first got together. Their first kiss was different. 

“Ara?” asked Nona, tentatively. “Are you alright?”

“I’m soaked,” she replied. Both girls were entirely unaware that it had rained while they’d been kissing. 

“Is it always like that?” said Nona, wonder in her voice.

“I hope so!” Ara laughed, “I don’t think so, though.” Kettle already had an inkling that the slightly older girl of the two had a better read on what her feelings for the other were, and her words almost confirmed it. 

“Well,” said Nona, a forced smile appearing on her face, “glad I could be useful. You should be able to handle those Sis boys, now.” A flare of jealousy, hot and intense, burned through the thread bond. Kettle suddenly understood what had happened - the two girls weren’t kissing because of their feelings for one another at all, but because of the damned party. Apple had warned Ara she might need to kiss some Sis boys to keep up appearances, and it looked like the girl had taken her warning to heart. If she was in her own body, she would have groaned. Those two  _ idiots  _ had clearly enjoyed the kiss - Kettle could attest to just how much Nona had liked it - but they were going to use the pretense of the dance to avoid talking about their feelings. She could  _ sense _ it. 

Once the two parted, the invisible shackle that tethered her to Nona’s mind eased up, and she was once again back in her own body. 

Apple was staring down at her, book discarded on the nightstand. “Are you alright?” she asked, brow crinkled in concern, “It sounded like you were having… an interesting dream.”

“I was in Nona’s head,” Kettle responded. “Something in her must have subconsciously called me to her. It wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I thought the two of you figured out how to control it? Is  _ she _ alright?”

“No,” muttered Kettle, “She’s an idiot.”

Apple raised a single eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. 

“She and Arabella kissed.”

“Ancestor damn it, am I about to lose our bet?”

“No,” said Kettle, petulantly, “they only did it because of the mission. Arabella wanted to practice kissing before the ball, so naturally she asked Nona. They were both clearly very into it, but I  _ know _ them. They’re going to pretend they were only doing it for pragmatic reasons. You might still win, yet.”

“Hm, I seem to remember us kissing ‘just for a mission.’ Our denials didn’t last very long, after.”

“Yes, but they’re  _ very _ stupid. Still - at least they kissed. It’s some progress. I could feel it awakening emotions in Nona that she hadn’t been able to name. Surely they’ll realise before Holy Orders, now that the seed has been planted. You better prepare yourself,” she said, facing Apple with a wicked gleam in her eyes, “I have very specific plans for you.”

Apple smiled, sidling closer to her and planting a kiss on her mouth. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Like you said, they really are very stupid. There’s still plenty for them to deny and repress. And I’ve had years to think of what I’m going to ask of you.  _ You’re _ the one who needs to prepare herself.”

They didn’t talk much after that. 

* * *

_ vii) jula _

Sister Page of Sweet Mercy Convent had known Sisters Cage and Thorn for a long time - since she was simply Jula and they were Nona and Ara. She’d argue that she knew them better than just about anyone in the Convent. It was a friendship years in the making, forged in both the classroom and in hardship of battle. They’d laughed together and bled together in almost equal measure. 

Obviously, she was aware of how they felt about one another. You’d have to be a fool to miss that - Sister Page had been called many things in her two decades of life, but a fool was not one of them. They’d each looked at the other like they’d hung the moon since they were in Red Class, and it had only become more apparent in every year since. 

She  _ also  _ knew that something resembling a club had been formed years ago, with the express purpose of making them realise how they feel for one another. It started back when they were novices - Darla and Ruli and Ketti and Leeni and Alata. Sister Kettle sometimes chipped in if they needed outside assistance. Most of them weren’t around anymore - Ruli chose not to take vows, in the end, and left Sweet Mercy to pick up her family’s merchant business. She still came back quite frequently - she worked out a trade agreement with Abbess Rule, meaning she facilitated the sale of Sweet Mercy Red in far-flung corners of the Empire - but it wasn’t the same. Darla died several years ago now - an early casualty in the war of Sherzal’s devising. Page was certain that the woman ultimately responsible for the death of that fierce, wonderful girl - her _friend_ \- would never know peace at the Ancestor’s side. Leeni, Alata and Ketti had all fallen at the Battle of Verity, only a few amongst scores of Convent losses. They were at peace now - she had to believe that.

Of the club's original members, then, only Kettle remained. They’d come close to losing her when they almost lost Apple - the two were a matched set in much the same way that Nona and Ara were - but they, at least, emerged at the other end. Sister Apple was still not wholly recovered, but was doing much better. Page believed that the club had reformed and now met with new participants in her chambers - her former teacher was not an original member, but now seemed equally enthusiastic at the prospect of making the two younger nuns realise their feelings for one another. Boredom from her Sister Rose-enforced medical confinement may be playing a role - and Jula had heard whisperings of a bet. As Mistress Spirit, she tactfully chose to close her ears at the mention of gambling. She didn’t want to go down the same route as her much-maligned predecessor, castigating friends and colleagues for a bit of harmless fun, but nor did she think she should endorse practices the Ancestor disapproved of by participating in them. 

Sister Page knew her friends - which was why she knew that the underhanded methods practiced by the club were not going to work. They were far too stubborn and set in their ways - as foolhardy as those ways may be - to fall for their (sometimes juvenile) tricks. Which was why the two of them were currently sitting at her desk like misbehaving novices. They’d been in this position more times than they could count under Abbess Wheel. Jula intended for the room to ultimately serve a kinder purpose, to be a place where novices could go for spiritual guidance and counselling rather than to just receive lectures and punishments - but, for now, its history and reputation suited her goal. 

She hadn’t wanted to resort to this - Nona and Ara were her friends, and also adults. They should be capable of working out their feelings for one another without her intervention - but she knew if left to their own devices, they may never see reason. 

“How come you asked us here, Ju- Sister Page?” asked Ara, a note of curiosity in her voice. Neither women used their Holy Names much when amongst friends, but they tried to be considerate of Page’s desire to be referred to by her chosen name. 

“Yeah,” said Nona, cracking a smile. “Feels like Wheel’s going to jump out at us and give us a sermon.” 

Page smiled at her friends, but there was an edge of nervousness to the expression. One way or another, things would change after this meeting. “I wanted to talk to the two of you, about something personal. I thought it was better done here, away from prying eyes.”   


“We’re listening,” said Ara. Both women were looking at her curiously. “Ask away.”

“Okay,” responded Jula, “Right. I guess there isn’t an  easy way to start this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. Nona,” she turned to face the dark-haired nun, “Ara is in love with you.” Ignoring the slack-jawed expression on her face, she turned to Ara. “Ara, Nona is in love with you.”

The effect of her words was immediate. It was as if she had walked the path and caused some kind of explosion. Both were staring at her, a range of emotions flitting across their faces at a speed at which a hunska would be proud of. Both were shocked and angry at her boldness, but underneath - underneath there was a glimmer of something that looked a lot like hope. 

“H-how could you say such a thing?” Nona sputtered at last. Clearly, she was trying to save face. There was  _ no way _ she wasn’t already aware of her feelings for the other woman.  _ No way _ .

Page opened her mouth to respond, but Ara beat her to it. “So you… don’t have feelings for me, then?” She sounded  _ crushed _ .

“What? No!” Ara’s face crumpled even despite her best efforts to hide it. Nona stared at her, panicked. “No, I meant - yes. I do. I do have feelings for you.” She spoke in a rush, as if she might lose her nerve if she stopped to think about what she was saying. Nona Grey had faced down the Tacsis, Sherzal and the Scithrowl horde - but telling Arabella Jotsis how she felt? That  _ terrified _ her. 

“You do?” asked Ara, her voice tentative. The faintest beginnings of a radiant smile curled at the corners of her mouth. 

“I do,” said Nona, resolute. She never did anything by halves - once she committed to something, she committed. Page prayed to the Ancestor that this would have a favourable outcome - she didn’t want to see her friends get hurt. “It’s - it’s okay if you don’t feel the same for me, though. I love you and that’s not going to change, but you could do a lot better than-”

Ara placed a single, graceful finger over Nona’s lips, effectively silencing her. “Stop. I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that you love me, and I won’t let it be spoiled by allowing you to diminish yourself. I love you, Nona Grey. I’ve loved you since we were children. I gave up my lordship to be here with you - do you really think I would do that if I wasn’t completely, utterly in love with you?”

Now that she’d started talking about her feelings after years of self-imposed silence, Arabella didn’t seem able to stop. The love she had for Nona was almost a visible thing - she was radiating with it. Nona, for her own part, seemed stunned into silence. Ara, with a quick glance at Page, removed her finger from where it still rested on Nona’s lips. She pressed a chaste kiss there, before taking her hands. 

“Come on,” she said. “I think we’ve got a lot to talk about, and we should do that alone.”

* * *

_ viii) nona _

As Nona walked through the Convent with Ara’s hand threaded through her own, it felt like she was in a dream. She was deliriously happy - her head was all light and airy, as if she was drunk, but she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol. No, Ara’s words were enough to induce this state in her. Ara  _ loved _ her. Ara had  _ been _ in love with her for  _ years _ .

It almost felt too good to be true. Nona had realised her own feelings years ago. She’d had an inkling when Zole confronted her about it when they were fleeing Sherzal’s soldiers, and that had only grown with time as she thought about it more. She’d spent _years_ daydreaming about this moment - years wondering what might happen if she ever worked up the nerve to tell Ara how she felt. She hadn’t done so until this point because she’d scarcely been able to  _ dream _ that her friend would reciprocate her feelings, and that friendship was too precious to risk with a one-sided declaration of love. 

But somehow, _ amazingly _ , Ara did love her. The very thought made her insides feel funny. It hadn’t been like this with Regol - they’d had fun together, sure, and he was good enough in bed - but she hadn’t ultimately cared enough about him to worry about risking their existing friendship by turning things physical. She did nothing  _ but _ care for Ara.

Almost without realising it, they found themselves at the sinkhole - the site of their very first kiss. Ever since that night almost two years ago now, she hadn’t been able to walk past it without thinking about their embrace. It was her first kiss, and the one that still meant the most to her - so far. She hoped there would be more kissing in their future. The very thought made her giddy. 

They both sat down near the edge of the sinkhole and just - stared at one another for a moment, neither knowing where to begin. The sight of their Mistress Blade and the now legendary Sister Thorn behaving so oddly drew several whispers from nearby novices, but neither gave a damn. 

“So,” said Ara softly, after a beat. She tucked a stray dark hair back into Nona’s headdress - neither of them were really used to wearing them yet. Nona shivered at the contact. “Where do we go from here?” 

Nona stared at Ara for a second longer, considering what she was going to say. She wasn’t usually one to care too much about precise word choice, but she wanted this moment to be perfect. Arabella really was beautiful - her hair golden, her eyes shining. She was looking at her with adoration clearly written on her face - had it really been this obvious the entire time? Maybe this was why their friends kept trying to tell them how they felt about one another.... Hard to know.

“Now,” said Nona, finally gathering up the courage, “I’m going to kiss you. After that? Ancestor only knows. But whatever happens, we’re going to do it together. We’ve waited long enough.”

Then, finally - they kissed. It was both like and unlike their first embrace. Their feelings for one another were just as strong as they had been that night under the focus moon, but they were older now - more experienced, less unsure. Both of them were more sure of this than they were anything else in their lives. 

They were Nona Grey and Arabella Jotsis, Sister Cage and Sister Thorn, the one-time Argatha and her Shield, and they loved one another. As their lips met, their future stretched out in front of them - it was a glorious one. 

**Author's Note:**

> real talk, i was meant to write a regol pov scene but just. forgot. until i was past the point where it would make sense
> 
> also i know clera comes off quite harshly here but 1) kettle doesn't have good reason to like her and 2) she's an angsty barely-teenager who is really jealous of ara, for multiple reasons. 
> 
> also.....apple won the bet. what do u think she asks of kettle ;) drop ur suggestions below


End file.
